It Might Have Been Me
by talk of michelangelo
Summary: sometimes she sneers at herself for being so utterly pathetic.


* * *

Sometimes, I'd hate him. I really would. I'd stumble around the woods for hours on end, just wondering how I'd gotten from there to here. And then I would phase, and a tremble would pass through - not that feeling that made me want to throw up - something a little softer than that. It gave me shivers, but I liked the feeling of shivering. I hadn't once shivered for the past two years, even when I wore nothing but a sundress and plopped down on the snow, laying there for the longest time and wondering if frostbite would ever come - and then I would look down, and laugh bitterly, seeing that I had nearly completely melted the snow I lay about in.

And today, Jacob Black found another way to completely infuriate me. I phased nearly immediately, shedding my last pair of good pants; if only to get away from him as soon as I could. I paused against a tree, breathing little gasps. I wasn't worn out from the running; I was just worn out. After I calmed down, I left back for the Reserve.

I wore my head high on my neck as I strolled back into the quiet grounds. I caught sight of Jacob's huge structure almost immediately, and a flitting image of him as a thin, scrawny boy shot through my mind, when he suddenly turned around and looked me in the eye.

"Clearwater."

"Black."

Somewhere along the lines, we'd reverted to using the other's last name. He opened his mouth to say something, and I blanked when he did.

"Emily is pregnant." Blank, blank, blank. And then realization, _boom!_

_"What?"_

"I'm just the messenger," he shrugged. I thought four hundred different things at once, and then I finally came upon _Why the fuck didn't she tell me herself?_

Seeing my pained expression, Jacob softened a little. I blinked the pain out, and flashing my eyes challengingly at him, I said,

"I'm going to visit her."

"I don't care."

"Bastard," I murmured underneath my breath, and I whipped around and began to run. I made it to Emily's in four minutes flat, and I shoved the door open. She spun around from where she was baking a new batch of muffins ( another four batches were cooling on the counter, and I pitied her for a moment - it would kill me to have to feed every single one of us - us with our monster appetites ).

"Leah," she gasped, a smile crossing her dainty face. The grimacing side lifted a little, too, and I felt a pang. It might have been me, once. I might be the one wearing those scars.

"You're pregnant?" My voice came out a hiss, but she didn't flinch.

"Six weeks." Her voice was gentle, and she pet her stomach, even though it was next to flat. "If it's a boy, I'm thinking of naming him Miles. Maybe Sarah for a girl. What do you think?"

"I think you should have told me yourself, instead of having Jacob, I mean - ugh," - I sputtered for a few seconds. It was a face-to-face sort of thing - I called him Jacob to everyone else, because it just didn't seem right if I called him Black to everyone else's faces - "Instead of passing it on through Jacob."

"I thought it would be easier, you both being in the same pack." Ah, right. I was the beta to the alpha. Emily patted my arm. "I would have told you myself if you were close by, Leah."

"I know," I said softly. "I've gotta go, Em. I'll visit tomorrow."

"Okay, sure." Her eyes were bright. "Bye, Leah."

* * *

After the initial shock passed, the knowledge of Emily being pregnant stung. I could be the one pregnant right now, but none of this was my choice, or Sam's. A wracking sort of sob silently passed my body, and I heaved. There was no one else out to see me break down. I punched the nearest thing beside me.

"Fuck!" I growled, my knuckles catching something hot. The thing - whatever it was - that I'd punched, let out a soft _oof_. I looked up to see Jacob staring down at me like I was a mutant. My fist lingered on his chest. My eyes narrowed. "What the fuck do you want?"

When he shrugged and didn't answer, my temper shot up again, and I let out such a long string of curses that my breath ran out before I could finish it.

"Do you hate him? Sam?" His voice was low, husky. I looked at him, my face closing off expression.

"No," I whispered. "I don't know how to."

He laughed.

"Screw you. At least I'm not letting myself be trampled on - and by a leech, no less."

He quickly sobered, and his eyes became dangerous. I was treading on thin ice - and so was he. In a sense, we were the same. This thought alone comforted me, just a little. Then the moment passed, and I cleared my throat, loosening my hands from their curled-up positions.

"I'm going home."

"Whatever," Jacob murmured. My eyes dropped a little as I began to walk away. How was it that I was stuck here, without any hope of a happy ending? Sam didn't love me anymore - no, he loved Emily - and what was more painful was that I couldn't even bring myself to detest either of them. It was as if Emily was not Emily without Sam, and Sam not Sam if without Emily. There was no room for Leah. My eyes flickered to the shadow behind me. Jacob's house was in the same direction as mine. There was no more room for Jacob in Bella's life either - what with her bloodsucking hubby.

How was it that he wasn't as bitter as I was?

Bitter. Right. That was me, the bitter bitch.

* * *

_Bella, Bella, Bella. I love you, Bella. _My ears twitched as I was forced to hear this. Why couldn't Jacob find someone else to think about? Why couldn't he just go and fall for someone else who might actually give a shit about what he thinks about? I accidentally let a little of my thoughts spill over the limit, and he glared at me with his giant caramel-coloured wolf eyes, and let out a whine. Thinking was harder when you're a werewolf - shapeshifter, whatever - it was almost like you had to contain your most private thoughts ( mine of heartbreak ) in a _very_ breakable glass beaker, and as soon as it filled up too full, they would begin to slosh all over - into the others' territory, where they could hear you.

_Fucking bloodsucker_, He thought now, narrowing his eyes at the borderline. _He's not even supposed to be alive. Screw it. _He was terrible at containing his thoughts.

I let out a dry barking laugh. Patrolling with Jacob was never fun, really, when he was in a bad mood. Sometimes, I'd say we might even get along, but there were those times where he would only concentrate on Bella Swan, and it bothered me to no end. How could his thoughts of her be so concentrated? Even I had to take time off of Sam, when we were both in love with each other.

_Get to the other side of the line, Clearwater._

_I'm your beta, not your slave._

_Get. over. there. _His thoughts were slow and deliberate and very, very irritated. Good. I growled and leapt over to the next point of the borderline, sniffing along as I went. Why were we still even doing this? Bella was pregnant with the vamp baby, it wasn't as if any of them would willingly hurl themselves over here right now when they could be fawning over her instead - this whole ordeal gave me a headache.

When our shift was done, we phased back, quietly redressing along the trees. Jacob came back out of the trees shirtless, and against my will, my breath hitched a little. It wasn't as if I wasn't familiar with half-naked Reserve boys, I had grown up with all of them. But at this moment, his tousled hair and grumpy face was kind of fitting against his browned skin, and I caught myself staring for half a second too long.

"Like what you see?" He asked cockily, his smile taunting. I could swear his chest puffed out a little pridefully, as if he weren't muscular enough.

I scowled. Irritating.

* * *

It would be four months later that Renesmee was born. Jacob imprinted, and I think my heart cracked a little more. He wouldn't love Bella anymore, he wouldn't pine for her or be heartbroken anymore. I was alone in being spiteful again. And somewhere, we'd gone from bitter ... not-friends ( what else could I call it? ) to pretty good comrades. We worked well once we resolved our issues with each other. The issue-resolving itself was a mess of anger and cussing, but it was an easier way to solve it than talking it out like decent human beings.

_You're such a bitch, Leah!_

_Mhm, what else is new?_

_Good Lord, what's your _issue_?_

_My issue? Oh, Iunno, it might have to do with the fact that my heart is being fucking partied on!_

He'd snorted at that, as if it were really something to laugh at - and then, he had let out this forlorn howl, and for some reason, it made me feel good. Like I wasn't unhappy with Sam and Emily, and the five-month-old bulge protruding from her stomach. On a better day, we'd figured out that it was going to be a boy, and she let me name him, because she felt like she owed me. Her baby's name for my lover - what an unfair trade - but I forgave her again ( like I had to everyday ), and I named him Conner. Sam had smiled at me, and I'd given him a small smile back.

I think I might have fallen in love with him, the day right before he imprinted. When I was alone, the day after Renesmee was born, I let myself cry again. I fell for one guy - he left me for my second-cousin ( my best friend ). I fell for another guy - he didn't even have a chance to leave me, because we were never anything.

I was his right-hand man ( woman ), and he was the alpha. Jacob Black the alpha, the one who did whatever he wanted; and Leah Clearwater, the beta, who was left in pieces, trying to clean up after him.

* * *

Seth told me I was smiling, and I hadn't even noticed until he said so. He said,

"Leah, that grin on your face is terrifying me. Stop it." And I'd told him to piss off, which he did good-naturedly, with a cheeky sort of grin on his face as he went to dance with his latest girlfriend. I scowlled at her bouncy inflated curls. They were just so ... annoying. Bouncy with life and curling-iron-magic.

Today, Jacob and Renesmee were holding their engagement party. It had been barely seven years, but suddenly, she was all grown up, with her soft smile and brown eyes and sheet-white skin. And because I'd watched her grow up, playing with Jacob and making him laugh and smile, I couldn't hate her either. Even forever the bitchy one, I couldn't find a single person to really, truly hate. It was pathetic. I sipped my wine as I watched them intertwine their hands. Renesmee looked like she was in heaven - but Jacob - there was something wrong with him and his faulty smile. It wasn't the right smile for the moment. The right smile would be _I'm ecstatic because I'm going to marry this beautiful girl beside me and oh God I'm so happy_, and his smile whispered a secret _I wish it was different._

Another thought rammed into me, and here I was, wishing that it _was_ me in Renesmee's place. It might have been me, too, had she never shown up. But I pushed the thought away and finished draining my wine.

"Are you really going to be happy with her?" My words slurred as Jacob helped me back to the Reserve. I guess it was sad, that I, Leah Clearwater, age 25 but looking forever 18, had not imprinted, but fallen in love with someone who wouldn't be able to love me back. I wish I'd imprinted on him at first glance, I really did. Then I'd have a reason to tell him I loved him. But since I didn't, I would be the happy bridesmaid ( alas, Renesmee had firmly put her foot down against Alice or Rosalie becoming - 'My _aunt_ as a _bridesmaid?' _was the first thing that shot out of her mouth, sounding very disgusted ).

"I guess so. She loves me, after all."

"Don't you love her back?"

"Of course I do."

"But are you _in _love with her?"

"I hope so. I mean, where would I be without my Nessie?" He joked. I looked downwards, my eyelashes tickling my cheeks, and as soon as my house came into view, I pushed myself off of Jacob's support.

"Thanks for walking me home, _Black_." I smiled drunkenly at him and pecked his cheek.

"Good night, _Clearwater_."

As I was unlocking the door, Jacob's voice called me back.

"Hey, Leah?"

"Yes, Jacob?"

"I didn't choose her." I shuddered. "I really didn't." A strange silence followed, as I stood, shoulders narrowed. Then he spoke again, his tone much lighter, but so much more melancholy.

"How would you feel if I told you that when I was ten, I thought you were the most beautiful person ever?" My breath hitched again, and I hoped he thought it was a hiccup.

"I'd be flattered." I forced calm words out of my mouth. My throat suddenly stung, and my eyes were teary. I kept my eyes wide open so that the tears wouldn't splash down.

"Then, when I was ten, I thought you were beautiful." An ironic laugh rumbled from the back of his throat.

"I'm flattered, Jake. Thanks." He waved as he left, and I hurriedly opened the door, slamming it as soon as I got in, and slumped against the door. That wretched thought that I thought might have left me alone forever came back again. I swatted it off.

"Hey, Jake?" I said in a small, broken voice, talking to the living room. "Come back. I forgot to tell you that I love you."

_It might have been me._


End file.
